Kisses From Satan

by George B Mair

  ‘You’ll find five metres of nylon rope under the seat. Fix his hands and put a running noose round his neck.’

  Stefanie nodded briefly. Sultry Mbawa had said nothing, but Winona touched his arms as he opened the throttle and eased back on to the road. ‘I’ve got a knife here.’ She lifted her skirt and unsheathed a long blade. ‘Maybe Miss Stefanie would like to keep it handy.’

  Grant saw the girl shake her head. ‘You keep it.’ She handed one end of a coil of rope to Sultry beside her. ‘And you grab hold of this. Give it a tug if he moves.’

  She sounded controlled but Grant guessed that she had been taken by surprise. ‘Where now, David?’

  ‘Back to our belvedere. I want to talk to this man and we’re going to need privacy.’

  He was watching the verge and slowed down as they passed a cluster of tall pines at a double S bend. A track opened out almost beyond them and he flung the car round the corner into the jet blackness of the forest. Their headlamps cut a swathe through the trees and he dipped them only when they reached the expanse of green mountain lawn which lay above a steep cliff dropping towards the frontier. He swept round in a slow circle pointing back the way they had come and looked for any other car. It was a favourite place for night birds and he had known a dozen cars parked there for a last petting session before returning to Geneva. But the place was deserted and he turned to Stefanie. ‘Let’s get him out of here.’

  ‘How about us?’ Sultry’s voice was dead pan. ‘Don’t you t’ink you ought to wise us up? Who is this?’

  ‘That,’ said Grant briefly, ‘is what we’re going to try and find out. But if what I think is right he is one of Miller’s gun-men.’

  ‘Meanin’ that he’s tied up with the bad men back home.’ The other girl’s voice was very quiet.

  He smiled. ‘More or less, Winona. And for sure if he is one of Miller’s men he’s a number one bad man himself.’

  Winona eased herself out of the car. The knife was still gleaming in her hand. ‘Then what are we waitin’ for? Let’s go find out.’

  The man had recovered consciousness and Grant frisked his pockets.

  There was an American passport in the name of James Tyler and a receipt for drinks at the Rhône. Grant had dragged him to the edge of the clearing beneath a massive tree whose roots curled over the ground like the tentacles of an octopus and he pointed to Winona. ‘Sit here, honey. And prick him if he refuses to talk.’ He turned to Tyler. ‘I’m going to take the gag out of your mouth and if you make a sound except to answer questions this girl will cut you to ribbons. Is that understood?’

  Enough moonlight came through the trees for Grant to see the man’s face tighten with anger.

  ‘Is that understood?’ he repeated. ‘And if you don’t nod or something you’ll get this into your leg.’

  The man slowly nodded and Grant eased out the handkerchief. ‘Not a word till I say so,’ he continued, ‘but to put you into the picture I want to repeat that if you don’t answer every question we ask you’re going to suffer for it. And we’ll start by knowing why you’ve been following my friend Miss Koren.’

  The man’s eyes were moving restlessly and Grant saw his hands clench around the ropes which tied them. He nodded to Winona. ‘Give him half an inch, honey.’

  The man stopped moving and before he could speak Winona had split open his pants. The knife was sharp against his thigh and she looked enquiringly at Grant. ‘Now?’

  ‘Why were you following Miss Koren?’

  The man hesitated for a moment. ‘Orders.’

  ‘So you were following her?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘By whose orders?’

  He shook his head. ‘My boss. I do as I’m told.’

  ‘And what is your boss man’s name?’

  The man’s jaw tightened and Grant nodded to Winona. Her knife slipped into his quadriceps for a slow inch and he suddenly screamed.

  Grant thrust the gag back into his mouth. ‘One more yelp like that and I’ll string you up.’ The nylon rope was still round the man’s neck and Grant tugged it with a slow deliberation which made Tyler gasp for breath until he slackened the knot. ‘Next time there won’t be a warning.’ He again loosened the gag. ‘What is your boss’s name?’

  The two men stared at one another and Grant saw Tyler’s eyes harden with obstinacy. ‘I’m not talking,’ he snapped.

  Grant pointed to Winona. ‘See that girl. The Klan lynched her brother and for her Miller and the Klan mean much the same thing. So it’ll be a pleasure for her to skin you.’

  Tyler licked his lips. ‘I’m not talking.’

  Stefanie touched Grant’s arm as he thrust the gag back into Tyler’s mouth. ‘Don’t do it, David.’

  He hesitated. ‘What other way is there? We’ve got to know and he looks a killer. It might even have been he who bumped Maria Suza tonight.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sultry’s voice was quivering with rage. Or it might have been fear.

  ‘There were three of you,’ snapped Grant. ‘Kept separate until the last moment. But Maria Suza was killed tonight. And she died slowly.’ He added, ‘Though the thing makes no sense.’

  Sultry’s knuckles tightened on the rope and she glanced at Winona. ‘You remember Maria? Kid from Harlem. Hit the headlines some time back when they raped her.’ She stared at Grant and then smiled. Her white teeth sparked like ivory in the moonlight and she glanced at the overhanging branch of the tree. ‘Let’s string him up, sir. I wasn’t sure at first but now I’ve had a good look I know I’ve seen him before. He was with Miller last fall when they attended a convention in Alabama.

  ‘Man, people say this fella Tyler’s a number one hater. I’ve even heard it said he’s s’spected o’ several killings in the deep south. Some say he’s Miller’s private hatchet man.’

  Winona’s knife was dripping blood and she laid the point lightly against Tyler’s legs. Her dark brown eyes were bloodshot and her nostrils quivering as she looked up at Grant. ‘What d’you want to know?’

  Grant fumbled in his pocket and lit a cigarette, a sure sign of irritation. The girls were looking for trouble, but Tyler might talk more quickly if women worked on him. ‘Keep him alive, honey. But find out the name of his boss. Find if he knows anything about Maria’s death. Ask what he was supposed to be doing tonight and let’s hear why he was tailing my lady friend.’

  Winona glanced at Sultry and a flash of understanding flowed between them as Sultry tightened the rope and Grant saw Tyler gasp for breath when Winona ripped the knife along his pants.

  She pulled them off and slit up his shirt. Sultry tore at the arms and let go the rope long enough to pull off his top half until he lay obscene in his under linen. And then Winona cut off trousers and singlet with a ripping slash which sounded almost like the cracking of twigs.

  Tyler’s face was deeply puce and Sultry half smiled as she slowly loosened the knot at his neck. ‘Jes’ you listen here. We’re gonna give you a li’l taste of what’ll happen if you don’t tell us what we wanna know. It’ll hurt. But it will be nothin’ to the hurt you’re gonna get if you don’ talk nex’ time you get a chance to open your mouth.’

  She took off her scarf and tied it round Tyler’s face. Grant saw that Stefanie had fumbled for a moment with her thigh, checking that the Parker was still in position. And then Tyler writhed in what must have been agony as Winona cut a circle round his most sensitive part.

  ‘Don’ worry, Klan man,’ said Sultry gently. ‘We aren’t goin’ to cut any bits off yet. This is just to show. Show what happens if you won’ talk.’

  Stefanie had gone suddenly pale and even Grant almost shuddered as he saw Winona run the blade round yet again cutting this time almost through the whole thickness of skin. ‘You like maybe better if we give you a shave first.’

  She turned the knife on its side and shaved the forest of thick hair which covered Tyler’s thighs. ‘You feel like talking?’

  The man clenched his te
eth but Grant saw his eyes quiver with fear as he looked at the knife. And then he shook his head.

  Sultry’s voice was almost off-hand. ‘You like to make it very difficult for yo’self, Klan man. Why don’ you open up?’ The moonlight was glinting against her jet black skin and she tightened the noose until Tyler was blue in the face, with the veins of his neck sticking out like ropes. ‘And now you, honey.’ She nodded towards Winona. ‘A li’l touch of that knife again and then we see if the Klan man talks.’ She glanced towards Grant. ‘This looks like bein’ messy an’ we don’ want our clothes ruined.’ She slipped off her dress and undies until she was crouching naked in the darkness. ‘Go on,’ she snapped to Winona. ‘We don’ wanna be here all night. Get moving.’

  Winona shrugged her shoulders, dropped her knife and wriggled out of her suiting. She was wearing slender briefs trimmed with golden lace and a deep cupped bra edged with the same strip of twinkling colour. ‘Stockings,’ she snapped. ‘If we’re gonna be mixed up in trouble later we don’t wan’ blood. An’ my scanties cost dollars. Do a real strip, honey, an’ then we can begin.’

  Grant saw Stefanie stiffen as Sultry folded their clothes into a neat pile and laid them on the front seat of the Maserati. And then the girl sauntered back with an insolent swing of the hips which made Tyler shiver from head to foot as she lifted the rope and leaned forwards until her mouth was only inches from his ear. ‘You gonna talk, man?’

  Winona was already crouching beside Tyler and she was holding her knife like a surgeon with a scalpel as she scratched skin from umbilicus to pubis. ‘Nex’ time,’ she said quietly, ‘you get bits cut off. Impo’tant bits that make life interesting. Bits you don’ wanna be wit’out. See? So now you talk. Huh?’

  Tyler’s brow was soaked with sweat and not even the gags could smother his screams of agony.

  ‘Give him another chance,’ said Grant.

  Sultry lifted the end of her rope and pulled it tight. But not too tight. ‘You heah what the gen’leman says, Klan man. He’s givin’ yo’ another chance. Maybe you talk. But in case you don’ talk my friend wit’ the knife here is gonna cut you real good. So you got one chance. Not two chances, just one chance.’

  Grant loosened the gags and knelt down. ‘The name, Tyler. Who do you work for?’

  The man drew a deep breath. ‘Charles Miller.’

  ‘And why were you following my friend?’

  The man writhed and tried to flex his thighs as blood trickled down between his legs. ‘He told me to report every movement.’

  ‘And why were you at St. Julien?’ Grant looked at the girls. They reminded him of two wild animals poised to strike. ‘These girls have tasted blood, Tyler. Your blood. So why let them taste any more? Who sent you to St. Julien? Who put you on the track of Maya Koren?’

  Grant was watching the man like a hawk. His eyes were blazing with fear and his whole body squirming in agony. But his jaw was firm set and Grant guessed that not even the knife would cut down to truth. ‘For your own sake, Tyler,’ he whispered, ‘say something. What were you to do up here?’

  The man shook his head. ‘They’ll kill me if I say anything.’

  Grant pointed to the branch above. ‘The Klan lynched a man some years back and I told you who he was, the brother of that girl there. Believe me she’ll string you up herself—and laugh as you choke to death—if you don’t speak.’

  The man gritted his teeth. ‘They would kill me.’

  ‘So you’d rather the girls bumped you instead. A last chance, Tyler. Why were you at St. Julien? What were you to do if you saw something off-beat?’

  There was a sudden deep silence as the girls crouched waiting for an answer. Winona lifted her knife and laid the tip against his skin. Sultry’s hand was tightening again at the rope and Stefanie sitting motionless as the silence deepened.

  The man looked slowly from one to the other. From the silver blonde woman with the shocked white face to the ebony black Negresses whose lips were parted in a half smile of anticipation. They had thrown back a dozen generations and Grant guessed that they wanted nothing better than to kill. ‘Think carefully,’ he said at last. ‘What were you to do if there was something off-beat?’

  Tyler was now lying motionless. His face was blenched in the moonlight, but Grant saw his jaw jut forwards as though he had suddenly made up his mind. ‘The hell with you,’ he muttered. ‘I’m not talking. You don’t dare kill me here.’ And then he screamed: a penetrating wail which must have carried a kilometre in the silence. Sultry tugged at the rope and Grant thrust the gag back into his throat. The scarf was tied round his head and Grant nodded to the girls. ‘Chop him. And then if he still won’t speak we’ll hang him.’

  Winona laid the blade of her knife against the man’s thighs and it moved like a silver spark as she seized a sliver of flesh and cut it off like halving an apple.

  Grant felt Tyler shudder beneath him and then the man fainted.

  ‘I’m sorry, Stefanie,’ he said. ‘But we’ve got to know. Maybe he was to phone the Clinique and say we were on our way. Time’s running out now and I’ve only one shot left in our armoury. We’ll start a lynching and if that doesn’t fix him nothing will.’

  He opened a Thermos of iced water from the car and poured it over Tyler’s head. The man opened his eyes and Grant guessed that he was near the end. He pointed to Sultry. ‘Throw that rope over the tree.’

  The girl grinned broadly and her muscles rippled like black whipcord as she flung the nylon over a thick-set branch eight or nine feet high.

  Grant forced Tyler to his feet and supported him while the two girls took the strain of the rope. ‘This is it,’ he said. ‘And you’ve ten seconds left to make up your mind.’ The girls were pulling steadily and he felt Tyler’s body stiffen as it took some of the tension. And then the man nodded violently.

  Grant snapped out an order. ‘Slacken an inch or two. He can talk standing.’

  ‘What were you to do?’

  Tyler’s voice was husky. ‘Phone the Clinique as soon as you crossed the frontier.’

  ‘Who was to get the message?’

  ‘Miller.’

  ‘And have you heard of Maria Suza?’

  Tyler shook his head and the noose chafed against his chin. ‘Nope.’

  ‘But why did you follow Miss Koren?’

  ‘Because Miller figured she would give us an angle on you.’

  Grant heard the noise of a car purring along the path towards the belvedere. And there was a glint of headlights beginning to flash through the trees. ‘Move,’ he snapped. ‘Everything into the car.’ He threw Tyler forward, loosened the rope and stuck his magnum into his back. ‘Into the car or, so help me, I’ll drop you now.’

  He felt the man hesitate and then they both ran forward. The girls were already in the back seat and from the mirror Grant could see them struggling into their clothes. Stefanie was holding a gun at Tyler’s ribs and he thrust the Maserati forwards as a Bedford Land Rover lumbered into the clearing.

  Stefanie had thrown her coat around Tyler’s shoulders and there was only one brief split second of time when the Bedford’s lights flashed through the car. He lurched on to the main road and pointed for Switzerland. ‘What now?’ asked Stefanie. ‘Something’s got to be done about this man.’

  Grant slowed down at a layby and got out of the car. There was a full ambulance kit in the boot. Tyler’s blood had stained the floor and seat, but oozing had begun to stop and he had begun to regain his poise. Grant thrust pads of sulphonet dressing against the wounds, covered them with cotton wool and anchored them in position with broad strips of Sleek adhesive.

  Tyler had begun to recover from his shock and Grant spoke over his shoulder to Stefanie. ‘There’s a pair of pants and sports shirt in my week-end case behind you. Let’s have them.’ He turned again to the man beside him and showed Tyler the ring which he always carried on the third finger of his right hand. He unobtrusively drew the magnetised case of his wrist watch across it an
d a thin needle slowly pointed upwards. The ring was a development of the suicide rings first used during the war, but the needle lay along the line of the ‘D’ on Grant’s monogram and could only pivot into position when drawn upwards by a magnet. The thing was so exquisitely made that not even experts could detect it, and the venom with which it was loaded caused death from coronary artery spasm in less than a minute. He had scheduled to use it for Miller later in the evening but first things came first. Tyler had still to contact the Clinique and Miller would be sending out reinforcements if he didn’t get a phone call fast.

  ‘See this,’ he said curtly. ‘A scratch kills almost instantaneously. So as soon’s we’re through the Customs you’ll phone Miller and tell him that we were late, but that all is well. And if you put a foot wrong you’ll get a shot of this before even the Douane know what’s happened. Down there I can’t use a gun or a knife. But this ring is noiseless and can’t be traced. Now do you understand that your one chance is to do what I’m telling you and play it real cool?’

  ‘And afterwards?’

  Grant shrugged his shoulders. ‘You’ll stay with us for an hour or two and then you can go see a doctor.’

  Grant had opened his second Thermos and was wiping the upholstery clean of blood which had tracked along the leather. He glanced again at his watch. They were well over an hour late. He left the needle of his ring thrusting outwards and checked that it had locked into position. ‘When we reach the Customs you’ll not open your mouth,’ he said slowly. ‘And you’ll phone as soon as we’re quit of the Swiss police.’ He gently touched the man’s skin with the needle and felt him stiffen at the contact. ‘Less than a millimetre separates you from death. Are you going to behave?’

  Tyler’s face was grazed and bruised but Grant guessed that no one would comment unless there was an unexpectedly close police check, and frontier formalities had now been reduced to practically nothing. He fished out a stack of passports from the pocket of his door and drew up at the Douane.

  There was only one car ahead of them and they were clear in less than two minutes. Grant then moved on to an open car park and nodded to Tyler. ‘This is where you phone. I’ll be right beside you and if you put a step wrong you’ve had it. Savvy?’